The demon with the face of an angel
by Funkmaster21
Summary: Angelus merciliessly stalks his prey in a cold night of 1760. Remembering the events, Angel wakes up confused at a revelation.


**A demon with the face of an angel**

_London, 1760_

Too frightened to move, not daring to breathe, the young woman hid flat against a thatched house. Nervously she brushed the long, blonde hair out of her sweat drenched face. She hoped against all hope that she had evaded her persuer.

Pressed against the cobble, she considered her options. Hide? Run? Fighting wasn't an option. Her attacker was simply too strong. She had seen it first hand. The way he assaulted her chaparone was simply unnatural.

Could he be the famed midnight killer? Her hopes were bare. Guided only by the moonlight, she looked towards the end of the alley, hoping there to be an exit. She allowed herself a quick breath.

She made her choice. Lifting her corset and silently cursing her huge yellow underdress, she silently moved into the darkness of an old alley between two cobbled houses. The area was stale with disuse, a diseased rat scurried between her legs as she crept along the wall.

As she reached the deadend, a cobbled wall; she suddenly realised how alone and how trapped she was. It scared her. Silently cursing her stupidity again, she turned back to the outside of the alley, hoping to see any sign of a crowd. She couldn't scream, not with her attacker so close, and she certainly couldn't go back. All she could do was wait in fear. stealing a breath of air when she could.

Suddenly, with sickening recognisation and fear that coursed through her body, she noticed the dark silohette of a man, his face disguised by the shadow of the moon. Paralized with fear, she could only stare as the figure appoached.

"Ah." He said, mockingly. "I've found you." He spoke loudly with pride, obviously enjoying his hunt. "I do so love it when they run." He added, speaking to no-one in particular.

Angelus the vampire stepped out of the shadows, allowing the moonlight to reveal his grinning face. The face of an angel.

"Get away from me!" Was all the young woman could scream. It was more a cry for help for any townfolk passing by than an actual threat. Her cries were met only with piercing laughter from Angelus.

"I've been waiting for this for a longtime." He said, stepping closer to his victim. Enjoying the fear in her eyes. "Looking for the perfect feast." He stared at her, admiring her. She couldn't have been older than 25. Blonde. Petit. Perfect.

He grinned again as he stepped forward. The woman crouched at her position, weeping softly and rolling into a ball. Angelus was close now. He looked down at the broken woman. He had enjoyed the chase, but was disappointed that it was over so quickly. He ran a hand through his long dark hair and enjoyed the sight again. Finally and with little effort, he picked up the small woman in one hand, straightening her and forcing her to look into his eyes. Even at full height she was still a full foot shorter than Angelus' tall build.

"What's your name, pretty one?" He asked, not expecting an answer. His irish accent usually caught people in this area offguard.

She looked up at him, too paralysed to speak.

"Not a talker? That's okay." He replied softly to her silence with a smile. He brushed the hair out of her face with his free hand, revealing her soft fleshy neck in the process. Angelus enjoyed the sight. She visibly trembled with fear, filling Angelus with more pleasure.

Stroking the exposed neck, he looked into her eyes again, but held her still in check to force her to stare into his eyes. Truthfully, she was too terrified to look away.

Sadistically, he wiped a tear from her eye. "Worry not, m'lady." He said. "I'm sure you'll be.."

Suddenly, his face turned. It twisted into a monster. His looks had gone. Replaced by that of an ugly beast. The woman tried to scream but found she couldn't. Her voice was lost, and her hope along with it. Angelus grinned heartlessly, exposing his fresh fangs.

"..Delicious." He finished, diving into the pleasures of the womans neck. Easily piecing her flesh with his sharp teeth, he drank her blood freely, even as she fell limp in his arms. On he drank, each glorius drop filling his mouth full of sticky, warm blood. He revelled in it.

Finally finishing with his meal, he tossed the worthless body aside and wiped his mouth. Pleased with the kill and amused with the chase he ventured out of the alley, satisfied that his hunger had ended. He would be out again tommorow when the sun was down for the next kill.

The face of an Angel

_Los Angeles, USA: Present Day_

Angelus. The word assaulted him in his sleep. infecting his mind, he could think of nothing else. Angelus. It represented only brutality in his eyes now. A name he had spent many years trying to forget. Angelus. Angel.

"Angel."

"Angel!" A familiar voice was heard. Angel woke quickly, as he always did. However he didn't expect to see Cordelia standing at the edge of the bed. Confused, Angel stared at her.

"Yes..? Cordelia?" He asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes, very aware that he was sleeping in a less than modest state. He spoke softly, even after the rude awakening.


End file.
